Aftermath
by Hairy Horklump
Summary: A collection of short stories set in the months after the Battle of Hogwarts.
1. Neville and Augusta Longbottom

**(A/N) A friend of mine gave me this idea, so here it is. I hope everyone enjoys it. It'll be updated as and when I find it possible. Nothing belongs to me, of course, and that applies to every short story. Each story will focus on a different character or characters and each will be approx. 1000 words long. **

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"Bye, Mum," he whispered. She beamed at him and pressed a bright pink wrapper into his hands. "Cheers." Alice leaned towards him and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Augusta Longbottom smiled sadly at her grandson as she rested his hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Neville. Let's go home. Alice dear, come now, it's been an exciting day, you'd better get your rest."

He nodded. "I'll come back tomorrow, Mum," he promised. "Bye, Dad." Frank stared back at him with a blank expression. Together, they helped Alice into her bed. She snuggled into her covers and reached out for Neville's hand. She clutched it tightly, holding it up against her cheek.

"Alice, you'll see him tomorrow," Augusta said wearily, gently prising her grandson's hands out of his mother's vice-like grip. They gave the Longbottoms a small wave as they reached the door.

Neville closed the door to the ward softly. Looking down, he saw his grandmother giving him a knowing look.

"Oh, Neville," she sighed, offering her arm for him to take to help her down the stairs. She was getting on in years, as much as she hated to admit it.

He sighed. "I don't know what I expected, Gran. Before, it was just the war, you know. I must have pinned all my hopes on a miracle, but now it's all over... I don't know."

"You hoped to see a change," she nodded.

He glanced at her and gave the ward door a longing look. "I know it's stupid, Gran. I just wanted something to change, but nothing has."

"It's not stupid, my love," she said, patting his arm.

"I just want them to know that something was different. You know, to know that everything they fought for and sacrificed was worth it. That _he's_ gone. That the evil _hag_ that did this to them is gone."

"I do too, dear," she sighed. She looked up at her grandson and for a brief moment, wondered how this had happened to him. He had a large scar on his left cheek and his face was darker from the bags under is eyes and the stubble on his chin .He was a man now, with his own worries and problems. He wasn't her little Nev anymore and somehow she had the feeling she had completely missed him growing up. "They'll know."

"They don't," he cried. "You saw them in there, Gran! They were just the same. Mum recognised me, but she knows nothing about me, she doesn't even remember my name; and Dad, Dad wouldn't know me from a house-elf."

"They love you," she said. "And in the end, isn't that what really matters? They might not know _exactly_ what happened, my dear, but if they did, I assure you, they would be _immensely_ proud. Like I am." She reached up and smoothed his hair out of his eyes. It was getting too long, she decided. "It's about time you did something with that ridiculous hair of yours, young man. You're staring to look like a hippy."

He smiled wryly. His parents may not notice the differences taking place, but his grandmother certainly did. "I think it looks good. Rebellious, even."

Augusta glared at him. "It looks like you've been living in a cave for several months. It will not do."

"I sort of have," he pointed out, grinning.

She gave him a strange look then, a mixture of pride, sadness, amusement and annoyance at his talking back to her. "Nevertheless, it will be cut off. While we're in London, we'd best get you an owl," she said, tugging him down the corridor.

"An owl?" he asked. "For what?"

"Why, for when you go back to Hogwarts, of course. Don't be obtuse, boy," she snapped.

"Hogwarts?" he groaned. "Really, Gran? I can't go back there." They reached the door leading to the Floo points, and Neville stopped to hold the door open for his grandmother.

"Of course you can," she scoffed. "You have to. You haven't got your NEWT's yet."

"I don't need NEWT's," he said petulantly.

Her eyes flashed then, and he cowered. "Of course you need them! How do you think you'd get a job anywhere without them?"

"Kingsley offered me a position in the Auror training programme with Ron, Harry and Hermione," he said quietly.

Her eyes softened. "And are you going to take him up on the offer?"

He nodded. "I might."

"Is that really what you want to do, dear? What about your Herbology? You always enjoyed that." she said softly. They had stopped walking and she was looking at him carefully. "You don't want to spend the rest of your life doing something you would hate, just to make your family proud." She smiled at him sadly. "We'd _always_ be proud of you, no matter what you decide to do with your life. Never forget that, my boy."

Neville looked away, scared of the tears pricking the back of his eyeballs. "I know, Gran." She looked at him sceptically. "I _know_, Gran," he repeated. "I'm not doing it just to make you proud, although I hope you will be. I want to make a difference. I know it sounds clichéd and ridiculous, Dad probably said the same thing to you thirty years ago." Augusta nodded, smiling. "This past year, it's been hard, but I've never felt happier."

His grandmother pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes with it. "Oh, Neville," she sighed.

"Oh, don't _cry_, Gran," Neville said, wincing.

She laughed softly, before fixing him with a look he had seen many times when growing up. "Now, while I am very happy that you've decided on this, you might change your mind later."

"Gran," he began.

"Neville," she pressed. "For my sake, go back to Hogwarts and finish your NEWT's. Something may happen later to make you change your mind. If it does, then you will still have many options."

He thought for a moment, before nodding. "Alright. I'll go back and finish them. But then I'm going to be an Auror."

His grandmother beamed at him. "There'll be no-one prouder of you than I am, my dear."

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**Hope you enjoyed it! Please review?**


	2. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley

**Post Battle - Day 5**

Hermione Jean Granger lay back in the grass. The sun was setting now, casting the field she was lying in and the small Muggle village at the bottom of the hill in a warm, peachy glow. She heard footsteps behind her, stopping a few feet away.

"Hey," she whispered.

Ron dropped down beside her, resting his elbows on his bent knees. "What are you doing out here? Mum was on the point of sending out a search party."

"I thought you were the search party," she said, shielding her eyes from the sun to look up at him. He wasn't looking back at her, but gazing out over the hills.

"Yeah, well. I left to look for you before she said anything, so I'm not actually here for her sake."

Hermione sat up, mimicking his position. "Whose sake are you here for then?" she whispered.

"Mine," he said, looking down at her. "I couldn't stay in there."

He reached out for her hand and she gave it, squeezing his fingers in a way that she hoped was reassuring.

"Mum's in a right state," he explained. "She's trying to make us celebrate and yet she's the one going around crying. Bill, Charlie and Fleur are basically running the house, 'cause Percy's shut himself up in his room and Dad's not talking to anyone."

"Where's George?" she asked.

Ron let out a bitter snort. "Who knows? He left about five minutes after you did. I doubt any of us would be able to find him if we tried."

"I hope he's okay," she said, barely registering that she was now stroking his hand gently with the pad of her thumb.

Ron smiled bitterly. "You mean you hope he's clinging onto a shred of sanity." Hermione nodded, sighing.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, clinging tightly onto each other's hands.

"What do we do now?" she asked, smiling sadly at him.

"Haven't a clue," he laughed. "We could ask Harry, he's probably got something up his sleeve."

"I think he's at more of a loss than we are," she said.

"Maybe old Voldy has an evil twin stashed away somewhere?" Ron smiled, twisting his hand slightly so that their fingers were now intertwined.

She snorted softly and sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "Seriously though, what are we going to do now?"

"Well, first we need to get your parents back," he said, resting his head onto hers, but still keeping a firm grip on her hand.

"We?" she smiled.

"'Course," he said. "Bloody hell, Hermione, you're not going to Australia on your own."

"I'm not?"

"As if I'd let you," he scoffed, squeezing her shoulder. "How about we talk to Kingsley about it tomorrow and try and get a Portkey sorted for next week?"

"That would be wonderful," she said, smiling as he declined to accept her thanks. "And then what do we do?"

He hummed slightly as he thought about it. "Well, you'll go back to Hogwarts, of course."

"What do you mean 'of course'?" she spluttered.

"Of course you'll go back to school," he repeated. "You're pretty predictable, you know."

She straightened up and glared at him. "_Predictable_? Oh, really?"

"Yeah," he grinned.

So she pecked him on the lips and began to draw back after a moment. He wasn't having any of that, however. After a moment of shock, he pulled his hand out of hers and wrapped it around her shoulder, keeping her pressing against him. Their lips remained pressed against each other for what seemed like hours, before Hermione finally pulled away for air, her face flushed. She bit her lip and smirked up at him before resting against his shoulder again.

"Was that spontaneous enough for you, Ronald?"

He laughed. "Even that was slightly cliched, but I'm not complaining," he grinned and pulled her closer to him with the arm that was still wrapped around her shoulders. "Are you going back to Hogwarts?" he asked.

She laughed. "Of course I am, Ron."

"I'm not," he supplied after a moment of comfortable silence.

"No?"

"No. I'm not going into the Auror training programme either."

"No?" she repeated again, surprised now.

"Well, not immediately," he explained. "I will in a couple of years. I thought I'd help George out at the shop for a bit. They were planning on taking over Zonko's, you know. I don't think George'll be up for it now, not without-" he stopped himself abruptly.

Hermione look up at him sadly. "Do you think he should?"

"Take over Zonko's? Yeah, why not? Things have got to be busier in Hogsmeade than in Diagon Alley, that's why Zonko's was set up there in the first place."

"That's a good idea," she said. "I hope George listens to you."

"He will," said Ron. "I'll be a poor substitute though."

She didn't know what to say to that, so she just stayed silent and held him tighter.

"Hermione?" he asked softly. The sun had set now, and neither of them had spoken for a while.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to go back? It's getting cold." His neck cracked as he straightened up.

"Can we just here?" she whimpered.

"Nope," he said. Prising himself out of her grasped, he stood up and stretched. "Hermione, we've been out here for two hours." He held out his hands to help her up, and pulled her to him after she accepted them. She still seemed reluctant. "I'm hungry, Hermione," he whinged.

She laughed. "Do you ever think with your head instead of your stomach?" He glared back at her "Fine," she smiled. "Come on, then." She held out a hand for him as she began to walk towards the house. He grasped it tightly and kissed her forehead when she beamed up at him.

Maybe Kingsley had been right earlier, when he was trying to get them to join the Aurors. The battle didn't mark the end of everything. Somewhere under all the rubble and the hurt were beginnings. Like this, Ron thought, as Hermione pulled him back towards the Burrow.

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